


In the Service of Chaos

by NewYorkNovelist



Series: Prelude to Pale Fire [1]
Category: Assassin's Creed
Genre: Alternate Universe, Assassin's Creed: Rogue, Assassins, French woman, Gen, Minor Character Death, Peru, Seven years war, no explicit content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-30
Updated: 2020-08-04
Packaged: 2021-03-06 07:08:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 7,351
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25609402
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NewYorkNovelist/pseuds/NewYorkNovelist
Summary: In the mid-18th century, the Parisian Brotherhood of Assassin’s council sends Annabelle Vasser to Lima, Peru to investigate a Temple that was found in a grotto by a fisherman on an island in the Pacific Ocean. With the help of a Spaniard named Horatio Borja, she sets off a chain of events that forever change her life.
Series: Prelude to Pale Fire [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1946890
Kudos: 4





	1. Chapter 1

Annabelle Vasser  
Location: Lima, Peru  
Date: 1764

**1.**

Annabelle tried to remember what Jacques, the man who raised her from a young age, had told her, but the unfamiliar surroundings made that difficult. She was to meet another Assassin agent in Lima, but it was like no city she had encountered. It was much smaller than the cities of Europe, and there was no shortage of churches. The layout was not very easy to navigate, and to top it off, Annabelle did not know where she was supposed to go. She only knew she was looking for a Spaniard.

“You must be Annabelle Vasser,” a gruff voice, thick with a Catalan accent, spoke from behind her. She spun around, surprised.

“How do you know who I am?” she gaped, unable to think of anything else to say. Obviously, this was the person she was supposed to meet, but he had so easily picked her out of the crowd.

“You are the only white woman I have seen all day,” he said. “I took an educated guess. Allow me to introduce myself. I am Horatio Borja de Tarragona. I believe I am to show you around Lima and the surrounding cities. Si (yes)?”

“Very well.” She followed him and listened to the history of Lima and his distaste for the Peruvian government. He sounded much like Jacques. 

Jacques had sent word ahead of her. He listened when the Parisian Brotherhood’s council tasked her with going to Peru to retrieve an artifact that once belonged to an ancient civilization. He, even, went as far as to suggest that he could come with her. 

In the end, this was her mission. This was the first important contract she was to complete without Jacques’ help. She had honed her skills. There would be no stopping her from completing it.

“This is Miraflores,” Horatio explained as they walked together. “We are a little outside of the city. There is much diversity here. As much as can be found in Lima. The Liman Brotherhood make it their home.”

“I would like to see where.” They merged with a group of people. “It has been a lengthy journey. After I am refreshed, I will go in search of the fisherman who found the entrance to the building.”

“Right away. This beauty is the Huaca Pucllana, one of the few pre-Inca ruins remaining. Some say that the entire structure is about five hundred meters.”

“It’s beautiful.” Annabelle craned her neck and threw her hand over her eyes as she took in the sight. Sunlight streamed down from the heavens, bathing an immense building at the top of the cliff in its golden light.

The adobe and clay pyramid spanned as high as she could see, towering over the entire square, as it sat upon the seventh platform. Various adobe huts, benches, and other small clay structures surrounded the building. Stone walls stood around the edifice, an endless testament to the early Peruvian craftsmanship.

“Do you know much of the Lima Culture’s history, Horatio?” she asked.

“No,” he responded with a dismissive wave of his hand. “Nobody does. They predated the Inca that were here when the Spanish arrived two hundred years ago. No one knows how old these ruins are. If I were a betting man, I would wager that this temple they have sent you to explore belongs to them.”

“What makes you say that?” Her curiosity piqued with the sudden revelation. She had heard some stories of a people who came before everything else and artifacts of tremendous, terrible power. 

“If it’s as old as it sounds, it can’t be anything else.

“Through here.” He headed down a cramp alleyway. Several men garbed in white and red watched them from both sides of the alley. These were her brothers, ones who she might use to find the fisherman.

The surrounding structures were unlike anything she had ever seen, and in her short life, she had seen many things. Jacques had always accompanied her. No doubt to make sure she didn’t fail her contracts, she surmised, but Annabelle was better than that. She knew what was at stake.

The Liman Rite of the Templar Order cannot get their hands on this artifact. Jacques hadn’t revealed if the Order knew of the fisherman. Annabelle, however, wouldn’t put it past them. Templars were insidious with their plans, and she enjoyed disrupting them. She didn’t understand how anyone could serve the Order willingly. There were truly evil men in the world.

“Any word on Templar opposition?” She turned more toward Horatio, entering the wooden door he held open for her. It was more of a wooden plank that served to block the entrance than an actual door. “I would hate to fumble about like a blind babe, but if we have heard about the Temple, then it would be reasonable to assume they have, too.”

“That’s something I don’t understand,” Horatio explained. “The Templars have gone silent. There’s been no activity in the places they frequent. It’s strange. It’s as if they picked up and abandoned Lima.”

“They can’t have done that. These men don’t give up. They wouldn’t leave a populace out of their influence. I would say that they are planning something. Perhaps, they are already searching this temple site out?”

“If they are, I haven’t heard word of it,” he countered. “My sources are reliable, Señorita Vasser. If they were moving on the temple, I would have heard about it. Their hideouts, they look to have been abandoned in a hurry.”

“Should we look into it, Monsieur Borja? Is it worth that much worry? Or should we just go to this temple? Your concern as me worried, so I will listen to your advice.”

“You could always look into this mystery after exploring the temple. I know your superiors have given you specific instructions, and investigating the local rite of the Templar Order is not one of them. Probably better to avoid any of their hideouts until you finish that. Si (yes)?” “You are probably right.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Annabelle Vasser**  
**Location: Lima, Peru**  
**Date: 1764**

**1.**

With only a general location where the fisherman went, Annabelle made a logical guess. The man would seek shelter in a temple of God as many faithful do. It made sense to her, but she second-guessed herself. She thought about what Jacques would do.

 **It is strange,** she thought. This was the first time she was alone, the first time she was without a teacher guiding her. He had asked her if she was ready. How could she not be? After her mother and father died, she spent much of her young life training. Annabelle decided she was ready long ago – much longer than her teacher had.

Sweat beaded upon her forehead. The perspiration ran down the side of her face, dripping off of her chin. It was too hot and humid for her. The air felt sweltering. She longed for France, but she felt pride that the Council chose her for this mission. Annabelle would be sure not to screw it up. The entire world was counting on her.

She swiped a hand across her face, wiping away the sweat. It was a wrong choice to wear such heavy black material. As much as she wanted to wear cooler clothing, she couldn’t do anything about it. After she accessed her options, she knew the disguise she would most likely have to don. Annabelle would have the information she and Horatio sought. No one could resist a grieving widow.

Entering the church, Annabelle felt hypocritical, but she appreciated the shade the building provided. She didn’t believe in a God. The Brotherhood had exposed her to too much. Either the Brotherhood or the Order drove every important event in history. She would do everything she could to ensure the common men – the true innocents in that secret war – remained safe.

The church, itself, was one of the older new buildings in Lima. It was one of the first put here by the Spanish, in a site of obvious significance to the indigenous people. Parts of the church looked much older, perhaps part of an even older site from the early Liman culture. 

“You think he is here?” Horatio grunted. She could hear the doubt in his voice. Of course, he doubted her. She was young, and she even doubted herself.

“There is not much more to go on,” she reasoned. “People go where they feel safe when they are frightened, just like any other creature. A church provides comfort to many.”

“There are many churches in Lima, chica,” he laughed. “You would have better luck drawing cards at random.”

“Well, we’ll have to make sure luck is on our side. It won’t take long to check this place out. I just need to focus, to see if he is here.”

Annabelle tried to silence distraction, to call upon decades of training, bringing her focus to a transcendent level, narrowing her vision to a spectrum beyond sight. There was no sign of the fisherman.

“Wait,” Annabelle murmured. A resplendent shimmering of gold and silver traced along grooves in the ancient stonework of the older parts of the church. It was like nothing she had ever seen. The material was reacting to her Eagle Vision.

“What is it?” Horatio asked.

“There is writing! What is this language!?”

“I do not know,” he admitted as he called upon his own talent and gazed at the golden writing upon the wall. He pointed to a part of the wall. “I cannot read it, but I think this here is a map. Why would they put it upon the wall?”

“Who knows why anyone would do anything. I’m sure it is the same for these ancient peoples, these people who came before. Do you recognize any locations? Perhaps, if we are lucky, it will point us to the Temple as these things often do.”

“I recognize this place.” He pointed to an island upon the map, tapping it with his finger. The writing and shapes flickered beneath his touch. “San Lorenzo Island, off the shores of Callao. There is not much to it. Just sea birds and sea lions. The citizens of Callao use the quarries for stone. They say Jacques l’Hermite and his crew are buried there.”

“Well, I guess we will find out. If the fisherman’s tales are true, and he fled upon discovering the Temple, then I cannot think of a better location.”

“Why would he come to Lima instead of going to Callao?”

“Whatever the reason, he wanted to put distance between himself and this island. I cannot shake the feeling we will find out why when we arrive there.” She turned back how they came.

Annabelle’s intention was clear now. People would forget the fisherman in the annals of time – even her – but the events that were to follow would remain with Annabelle and the people of Peru until everyone drew their last breath.


	3. Chapter 3

**Annabelle Vasser**  
**Location: San Lorenzo Island, Peru**  
**Off the Coast of Callao**  
**Date: 1746**

**1.**

**I will never get over how beautiful the moon looks upon the water,** she thought ash she stood by Horatio who was steering the Peruvian ship. In the distance, she could make out the looming figure of San Lorenzo. The rocky land welcomed them with open arms. She watched the moonlight stream down from the heavens, lighting their path to the island beyond. Goosed flesh rose upon her arms as the cool salt air spritz her face.

Annabelle had always gotten like this when she was about to finish a mission. Jacques had always laughed at it. She was close to retrieving the artifact. By tomorrow, if the Arlette, the ship she commanded, was finished with its upgrades, she would be on her way home.

Weather permitting, the Council would hold the Piece of Eden in their hands this time next month. There would be no reason not to name her as a Master Assassin. She looked forward to her future promotion, being able to mold the minds of pupils. That was all Annabelle really wanted to do: make a difference in the world. She wanted to leave a lasting mark upon someone.

“I cannot wait for this to be over,” Horatio said as he turned the wheel. He was careful not to get close to the channel between San Lorenzo and another island. “As soon as the artifact leaves Lima, I am going to send for my girl in Spain. I plan to marry her as soon as she arrives.”

“Have you been away from her for long?”

“Fourteen years.”

“That’s a long time to wait for someone. How do you know she will come?”

“You have never been in love have you, Señorita Vasser?” he chuckled. “After fourteen years, Joan still writes me every day. As do I to her. Every day away from her is the death of me.”

“I hope you find each other well, and soon,” Annabelle replied, politely wishing him well, though she knew nothing about love. She had never felt romantic love in her life, and she didn’t know that she would ever get that chance, given the life she was meant to lead. Everything seemed to be laid out for her, and she was given little choice in the matter. Moreover, little thought was given to her happiness.

They stumbled upon the rocky terrain, looking in vain for a cave entrance, a sinkhole, anything that would prove an entrance to a precursor site. There was nothing, not even a trace of ancient architecture.

“Are you sure the map pointed to this island?” she questioned.

“It is.” He pulled out a drawing they had made of the map. Something wasn’t right though. “Look where the entrance is depicted.”

“It would be underwater.”

“Right now it would,” he said. “The tide is in. We must wait for it to go out. Then the entrance will be exposed. It should be right over here.”

**2.**

**Cannot be much longer now,** Annabelle thought. They sat upon a rock big enough to support both of them in silence and watched the position of the moon. It was colder now than it had been the day before. The moon was gone now. A flock of alabaster seabirds emerged from the rocky crags behind them.

They would have to wait for a little while longer. The tide was not low enough to show the way to the Temple. She could just make out the entrance to a cave, and the mark upon the stone where a worker had chiseled. What made the fisherman go deeper in than the worker? That would be an answer that Annabelle would never find out.

A little white bird landed upon a rock next to the two Assassins, cocked its head, and peered at them. It bristled, the plume spreading out. Annabelle and Horatio were the intruders to that distance land. The beast made its displeasure known. Another bird further up the shore answered the squawk.

She took a bite of the bread she held, the crusty loaf crumbling as she ate it. It was not the most delicious thing that Annabelle had, but it would have to do. The Liman Brotherhood – like most brothers and sisters Annabelle knew – didn’t care for savory items. They were men of action. Their choice of rations reflected that.

To be fair, this wasn’t only limited to the Brotherhood. Every soldier around the world from the Colonies to France had similar rations. They mostly consisted of a meat component – which Annabelle and Horatio had already devoured as they waited – a loaf of bread, and a quart of bear. No more than that. Annabelle felt lucky Horatio had the compassion and foresight to share his.

“You should get some sleep,” Horatio suggested. “The water won’t be low enough to enter the cave for a little while longer. I could wake you when it is low enough.”

“I don’t think I could sleep if I tried. If I was even tired, I couldn’t sleep in such a strange place, waiting for such an exciting thing. We don’t know what’s down there, Horatio. It could be anything, literally anything. I’m practically giddy with anticipation, so much so that I don’t even mind this bread.”

“You must be very excited, then,” he laughed. “I am not a man of discovery. They tell me to kill someone, I kill that someone. They are usually bad people that I kill, so it doesn’t bother me.” He motioned to their surroundings and what they were doing. “This, it doesn’t appeal to me. We could find anything, si. What if the anything we find turns this place into our tomb?”

“You are a bit of a gloomy man, Horatio,” she muttered, and they fell into silence.

As the last light of the dying dusk left the sky and a true blackness spread about them, she couldn’t help but drift off. She hadn’t realized how sleep deprived she was, how inviting the warm embrace of sleep was, but she answered the call rather quickly. She didn’t remember another thing until Horatio’s elbow nudged into the side of her breast roughly, and he spoke.

“Wake up, Señorita Vasser,” he said. “It is time.”

“How late is it? How long have I slept?” she asked, still in the bewildered state of half walking.

“Not long. If I had to guess, I would say it is not yet midnight. Look, the entrance is exposed.”

Below them, down a sheer cliff that had only hours earlier been submerged beneath the sea, was a small, dark maw, opening into the earth. It called to her with the promise of discovery. She could be the first person to see what was within that cave in millennia. The very thought excited her.

“Come on, Horatio,” she commanded, practically giddy. “Let’s go.”


	4. Chapter 4

**Annabelle Vasser**  
**Location: San Lorenzo Island, Peru**  
**Off the Coast of Callao**  
**Date: 1746**

1.

“Let me help you,” Horatio said as he placed his hands around her waist to help her off of the cliff.

Water splashed upon her knee-high boots and the breeches tucked within the jackboots. She stumbled and gripped Horatio’s shoulder to steady herself.

Her stomach fluttered as she thought about the discoveries she could make. Annabelle knew he wouldn’t appreciate them as he, like the other men in the Brotherhood, was driven by purpose: a purpose she didn’t share. He didn’t appreciate the cave’s beauty. The thought of discovery didn’t appeal to him.

“Here’s another entrance,” he uttered, breaking her concentration. There was a small opening in the stone face.   
What made him venture inside? There were many like her who craved adventure, who wanted to see the furthest points upon the earth. Was the Peruvian the same? Did he go into the cave hoping to find something to ease the crippling poverty that life forced upon him?

Within the first room of the cavern, they noticed several crates. She bent down, examining the symbol burnt into the waterlogged wood. Her fingers darted over the royal emblem.

“These crates are not part of the Temple,” she murmured. “This crest is from Elizabeth I, The Virgin Queen. I believe this is what the fisherman was after. They would fetch a pretty penny to someone interested in antiquity. Someone like me would pay an outrageous fee for them.”

“You’re not a regular sister, are you, Senorita Vasser?”

“No. While I am a trained killer, Monsieur Borja, that is not my specialty. I am the type the Brotherhood calls upon to investigate these places and the artifacts. I have always held an interest in our world’s history and the different cultures. Haven’t you ever wonder what happened to these people who came before us? Where did they go? Why did they abandon these temples? Why leave these precursor machines behind?”

“I am reminded of something my father would tell me,” Horatio cautioned. “When he found a question he could not answer… where did the heavens come from? what is the moon? … things of that nature, he would say, ‘Some questions may never be answered.’ That could apply here. We could find silent ruins with no explanation.”

“I hear the fear in your voice,” Annabelle said. “There is no shame in that. If you wish to stay behind, I would not think less of you. You have your woman to think of. If something should happen to you here, she would never even know of it. I would not be so missed.”

“I doubt that is true,” he countered. “And I will not stay behind when a woman, barely more than a girl, will go running ahead. I would never be able to live with myself after that. Of course, I am coming with you, if only to keep you from getting yourself maimed or worse.”

“I may be little more than a girl,” she growled, “but I know much for my age. I do not need you to protect me. Don’t make the mistake and underestimate my potential.”

“I apologize if I have offended you. It wasn’t my intention.”

They lapsed into silence again as they ventured deeper into the cave. It didn’t bother her as almost everything out of his mouth had something to do with doubting her. The Council trusted her enough to send her upon this mission. Why couldn’t this Spaniard who Jacques called a friend? Annabelle thought that it directly reflected upon the man who raised her. Did he not trust her judgment as well?

Soon, they came to a large cavernous room. All they were met with was a mystery. There was no way to advance further into the cave system. It was a dead end. There had to be more to it. Annabelle felt in her soul that there was, but she couldn’t help feeling lost within that moment.

“This is hopeless,” Horatio said. “We do not even know if there is a Temple here. All this upon the word of someone who most likely was drunk.”

“Give me a moment,” Annabelle sighed, her shoulder heaving with the words. She studied the craggy walls, looking for a secret entrance or anything that would show them the way. There was nothing obvious, and she was beginning to get frustrated. “Do you still have those candles that were with your rations? Maybe, a bit of light will show us the way." 

"I do,” he said, handing over one of them. Annabelle took it from him. Fetching a pouch from her waist, she poured a small amount for black powder on a rock shelf next to her. She pulled out a steel blade and a flint bar and slid the blade along the length of the bar, aiming the sparks toward the powder. It quickly ignited, and she held the candle over the brief, yet intense, flame.

“Look at this,” she said, holding the meager light up to the solid wall that provided the cave with a dead end. “There are marks in the cave walls, gouges. This wall moves somehow.”

“Perhaps there is a mechanism somewhere,” Horatio suggested. “It could be anywhere.”

“You search on the side,” she offered. “I will search over here. There’s got to be some recess somewhere, a hidden switch. I’m sure this is door of sorts.”

“Let’s hope it is not locked,” he stated with a grim chuckle. “And us with no key.”

“This is not the first Temple I have explored. I usually have Jacques with me. He knows I do not act rashly. He trusts my decisions. You should, too. This is typical of these places. The ancient peoples tend to hide the openings in plain sight. I just … need you to be quiet for a moment."

 **There has to be a pattern. A way up.** Annabelle scanned the room as she looked at the stalactite and stalagmite. She had to get a bird’s eye view. Then, she would be able to find out how to move the door.

There was only one way to find it. Annabelle walked to the center column, took a deep breath, and jumped up to the first handhold she saw. The slick earth made it difficult to transverse. She, however, wouldn’t be dissuaded. How to move the door had to be answered, and she knew from experience this was one of the only ways.

Again, she took in her environment, searching for any anomaly within the room. Much of the room was covered with earthen drapery, columns, flowstones, stalactites, and stalagmites, but nothing seemed out of the ordinary. Water ran down her gloves and over the sleeves of her jacket. She wondered how far down they were? It was obvious they were deep within the earth.

Finally, what she searched for stood out to her.

"There’s four levers,” she called down as she hung off the edge of the column. “Hidden by the cave’s rock formations. One on each wall. When those are pulled, they should open the way.”

She studied the levers for a long time, looking at the mechanism of each, following the ropes and pulleys from each, to best ascertain their purpose. After an indiscernible amount of time, she looked back down at Horatio.

“It’s a combination lock,” she marveled. “I’ve never seen anything so complex. It’s spectacular.”

“With such a lock, it makes you wonder about what is being locked away, does it not?” Horation questioned in a warning tone. “Perhaps it is locked away for a reason.”

“Reason or no, the Templars won’t stop until they have what is behind this lock. We have to figure this out before they do, or they will use whatever they find and damn the consequence. We aren’t going to use what we find. Only protect it.”

“What if it’s not that simple?”

“Hmm?”

“It’s never that simple.”

“Have faith,” Annabelle murmured, completely missing Horatio’s point. She might have been barely into adulthood, but Annabelle had dedicated much of that young life to studying these artifacts that was left by people who came before mankind. “Give me a moment, please.”

Annabelle pulled one of the levers, listened to a distinctive wooden clicking sound, and knew that she wouldn’t be able to open the door herself. One of the other levers had to be pulled at the same time as this one. She concentrated and the world shimmered in grey hues. She focused upon floor before the mechanism in front of her.  
The footsteps of a forgotten ancient civilization shimmered before her. The glowing blue trail started at the lever before her and went to each handle. It seemed like it would be easy to open the way. Almost too easy.

“All these levers are connected,” Annabelle explained. “They need to be activated in the right order.”

“What will happen if we pull a wrong one?”

“A hail of arrows? The floor erupts in water? Lava pours from beneath us? The relic is destroyed? The only thing I can say for certain is we do not want to find out.”

“So an early death?” he chuckled, grimly, “We’ll be buried beneath the earth.”

“Is there any other type of grave?”

“It won’t be the end of the world,” Horatio joked grimly. “Just be careful.”

“I am always careful,” Annabelle insisted. “I haven’t died yet, and I’m not about to start now. I’m not going to get you killed, Horatio. Don’t worry.”

“I’m not worried,” he lied. He looked around like he was afraid that someone was following him, as if he were trying to catch a lurker in the shadows.

“Were we followed?”

“What?” He snapped out of his distraction. “No. Of course, not. I made sure of it. Just, hurry, please. This place is making me nervous.”

“Well, be at ease because I have figured it out.”

Annabelle jumped up, finding a deep handhold in the crevice of the rocky wall. Much like a spider, she clung to the wall in her ascent. Her focus was on the way up that she didn’t see Horatio climb to get to his lever or the movement on the ground she saw out of the corner of her eyes.

Much to her surprise, and contradictory to her account of the ascent later in life, scaling the first surface was straightforward. Many buildings in France offered more challenge than this natural facade.

Annabelle stood on the wooden platform before the lever and looked straight across the gap to see Horatio’s ascension. He seemed to have more trouble than her. She wouldn’t mention his ability, but she wondered if this was the best the Liman Brotherhood had to offer.

“We have to do this together!” Annabelle shouted across the distance. “Once we pull these two, we need to get to the others quickly! You need to pick a path to the next lever now and stick with it! If I am right and this is like the other Temples I have visited, we have a small widow of time, thirty seconds or fewer!”

“You have done this before?!” he called back.

“Oui (yes)! A few times and always with my master! Are you ready?!”

“Si, I am ready,” Horatio said after studying his path for a moment. “I will be honest, I have never been a strong climber. I wasn’t expecting this.”

“Trust your instinct and don’t look down,” Annabelle offered. “That’s the best I can give you given the circumstances. If we had time, we would go back to Lima and get a stronger climber. You will have to do, Horatio Borgia.”

“I appreciate the vote of confidence,” he grumbled. “You French have a way with words.”

“We don’t have time for courtesy. Just do your job. On three. One. Two. Three!”

Each pulled their first lever.

“Move!” Annabelle bellowed. Each started climbing. Annabelle had an easy time, following her prescribed path. She only took about ten seconds to get to the next lever. She looked over to Horatio. He was halfway up the face, struggling. He looked about in a panic.

“Trust the path you picked! Don’t try to find another halfway up! Move it! You don’t have much time!”

The words must have helped because he elected for a longer path that got him to the lever with only a moment to spare.

“Pull it now!”

They each pulled their lever again. Deep within the earth, a thud could be felt more than heard. The sound of chains scraping followed.

“We’ve done it!” Annabelle exclaimed, unable to contain her excitement. “The temple is opening!”


	5. Chapter 5

**Annabelle Vasser**

**Location: San Lorenzo Island, Peru Off the Coast of Callao**

**Date: 1746**

**1.**

She and Horatio walked in silence. Despite the darkness surrounding them, they navigated by their Sight, an innate ability that every Assassin possessed. A golden sheen wreathed their irises. As if the entire cavern was lit by moonlight, they could see abrupt drops in the ground. She was sure these craters led deep within the earth, and if she or Horatio fell into them, there would be no chance of rescue. In several places, black marble panels cut into the wall and towered over them.

“I’ve seen nothing like this before,” Horatio said.

Unable to find the words to express the wonder she always felt in such a place, Annabelle smiled. She remembered the first time she accompanied her master as they investigated her first temple together. The structure astounded her then, as this place did now. There was something in the silence that allowed her to appreciate that she and Horatio were the first ones to enter the ruins in eons.

They walked through a sizable gap — an entrance Annabelle was positive the ancient Liman people chiseled long ago in the rock face — and emerged into a capacious chamber. Smooth, ebony steps carved into the facade spiraled down into the room's abyss. A rhythmic resplendent light raced through the stone staircase and lit a path to a 30 foot natural limestone bridge that spanned across the lower part of the pit.

"I think I see where it is," Annabelle gushed as they stepped out onto the flight of stairs. "Be careful. The water from above has dripped onto the stairway. It is easy to lose your footing. "

"Where is it?" he pressed, ignoring her instructions.

"The bridge below leads to a dais. I would wager that what we seek is there." 

“It is wonderful," Horatio muttered as they approached the device. 

**I have never seen anything like this,** Annabelle thought. It was the strangest thing Annabelle had ever seen, star-like with spikes jutting out in every direction. It glittered with veins of precious metal. Somehow, it hovered in the air above the pyramid dais without so much as moving an inch. Strange light passed along the surface. 

"Don't touch it," Annabelle warned. Her voice barely rose an octave. “I have never came across something like this before.”

"What do you mean? I'm going to take it."

  
"I don't know why. Something is telling me to leave that alone. I have a bad feeling about it. Why have such a complex lock and then just leave this thing lying out in the open like this? It's supposed to be where it is. Leave it alone, Horatio."

"You don't understand. I have to take it. I am going to sell it to the man. He promised me very much money for whatever we find. I hope you understand. I have to. For my familia. It's nothing personal." 

“You will sell it, Horatio?” Annabelle repeated as if she were dumb or deaf. “To the man? What man? What are you talking about?”

At once, Annabelle realized that they were not alone. A tall, Irish bloke strode down the stairs, footsteps ringing off the smooth stone, and stepped upon the platform behind them. In her zeal for the artifact, Annabelle never saw the betrayal coming, but she never thought a brother would betray her.

Annabelle unsheathed her rapier and trained it upon Horatio and the other man.

“I have no choice, Senorita Vasser,” Horatio excused. “With the money, I can finally send for my girl in España. Without the money, I will never see her again.”

Even in the dimly lit room, Annabelle could make out the unknown man’s robes. The black leather allowed him to blend in to the shadows, crimson etched onto his coat’s shoulders and cuffs. The cross upon the baldric crisscrossing his chest gave his affiliation away.

“And that is an excuse to throw your lot in with the Templars, Horatio?” Annabelle bit off. She frowned, pinching her lips together in a thin line. “I cannot allow you to give this to him.” 

"I'm sorry to say that you do not have a choice in the matter," the Templar responded. She was shocked by the note of sadness in his voice. "There needn't be a fight. I don't want to cause you harm. This device, whatever it is, needs to be put away from the people in your Brotherhood. No one should be toying with relics they don't understand."

"That's funny," she sneered. "I was to retrieve it to keep it from people like you. Your kind are the ones that would use this technology to enslave the world!"

"They would have you believe that. They've indoctrinated you to believe that. It is not true, however. My people don't even know this place exists. They do not know I am here. I came alone."

"You lie like all of you kind!" She raised her weapon. She needed to get between them and the device. 

As Horatio drew his sword, he backed up. Unintentionally, his back bumped into the device, nudging it ever so slightly out of place.

“You will have to — ” Annabelle didn’t get to finish her sentence.

Soon after Horatio’s minor collision with the podium, the relic disintegrated. All that was left was a pile of dust.

The ground shook beneath them. Annabelle fought against gravity. She flung her arms and steadied herself. The dais shuddered in the earthen rage the artifact’s destruction left in its wake. It toppled over, separating her and the Templar from Horatio.

Several limestone stalactites creaked from the ceiling. She and Horatio cried out as one fell. Silencing him, the rock landed on top of Horatio, crushing him beneath its weight. Blood spread underneath the bottom and dripped off the dais' new jagged edge into the blackened pit below.

Another column toppled over from above them, crashed down, and destroyed the remaining piece of the platform connecting to the natural bridge. She knew then Horatio had been right. This place would become their tombs.

"We have to go!" The Templar stood on the end of the natural walkway, extended his hand, and beckoned to Annabelle. The earth belched magma and illuminated a small circle bauble affixed to the right side of his belt. The branches of the tree etched within the trinket glowed in the fiery light. "Come on, Lass." 

She jumped across the gap and almost didn’t make the landing. Her heart pounded in her chest.

The Templar clutched her wrist, stopping her plummet into the void, and pulled her onto solid ground before him. He shouted, “I got you!”

“Thank you, Monsieur . . !”

“Finnegan! We need to move! Let’s go!”

Without waiting for her to regain her footing, he pulled her up the causeway. He released his hold on her wrist but interlocked his fingers with hers. They ran.

The events that followed were a blur to Annabelle. The man ceased to be an enemy in that race for survival. They worked together to stay ahead of the pyroclastic flow that bore down upon them with a speed they couldn’t hope to maintain, even calling on every bit of training they had.

“Don’t look back,” the older man ordered. Master Finnegan’s tight black ponytail bounced against his jacket as they ran together. He held onto her hand so tightly that a cramp burrowed into her fingers. “Watch out.”

The ground continued to shake around them. The seemingly endless tremors tore the very earth apart. Boulders the size of buildings fell from the roof of the cavern. Lava spouted from beneath them. Fiery projectiles landed upon the stairway as they ascended.

The walkway crumbled behind them. They still pressed on.

 **It’s hopeless,** Annabelle thought as she gripped the Templar’s hand tighter. She didn’t want to die there, forgotten in a dank grotto in the middle of the Pacific ocean.

In that mad dash for life, Annabelle thought about little else. She wanted to scream or to cry. Annabelle could do neither.

Matters were further complicated once seawater rushed in through the openings in the cave. Water splashed upon the back of their legs, beaded upon their leather tailcoats, and streamed off their jackets’ hems.

They neared the entrance of the cave. Her breath came out in pants, but she still had to push onward. She would not die in that hole, and she had to make sure that this Templar didn’t, as well. It was weird how close she could become with a stranger in a disaster.

“We’re almost there, Monsieur Finnegan! Just a few more minutes!” She couldn’t disguise the relief in her voice. Annabelle wept. Tears cascaded off of her cheeks as she sprinted toward the moonlight streaming through the cave’s mouth.

A column collapsed ahead of them. It’s top slammed against the adjacent wall, shattering and cracking in half. The rock left a small gap to the cave’s mouth. It wasn’t big enough for both her and Master Finnegan to fit through.

 **One of us will not make it!** Her stomach dropped. She wasn’t ready to accept her demise nor Master Finnegan’s, but throughout all of her training, she knew one thing. Death waited for no one.

Before Annabelle could suggest that he leave her there, the Templar shoved her from behind and propelled her through the small opening.

“Finnegan!” She whorled around, but she didn’t have time to say another word. The pillar broke completely, crashing down onto the Templar.

 **He’s dead!** Master Finnegan did not even have enough time to cry out. Blood splattered across her face and soaked her tunic.

Water rushed behind her, so fast that it swept her away. Rocks slammed the passageway shut, trapping the Templar’s corpse within.

The force of the water cast Annabelle into the side of the tunnel and knocked her unconscious. Before the world faded to darkness, she had but one thought.

**Horatio was right. The place had become their tomb.**


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter Six**

**Annabelle Vasser**

**Location: Callao, Peru**

**Date: 1746**

**1.**

“Stay away from the water!” a piercing cry penetrated the blackness overtaking Annabelle. Trying to wake from the nightmare plaguing her, she fought against the darkness. All Annabelle wanted to do was sleep.

Her head throbbed. She tried to lift her hand to her temple, to rub the sore spot, but she found it hard to even raise a finger.

“The Lord’s not finished yet!” another shriek penetrated the bewildering cloud fogging Annabelle’s mind.

Her chest tightened. She didn’t understand why there would have been fear in the voices.

There should not be any voices, Annabelle thought. When the very earth rocked beneath her feet, no one survived. Not Horatio and not Master Finnegan.

Her eyes snapped open. The memories assaulted her much like the precursor relic had. Master Finnegan shoved from underneath the collapsing pillar, sparing her from his fate.

 **I owe him my life,** Annabelle thought in a stark revelation. She didn’t understand why the Templar sacrificed himself to save her. 

Annabelle bit back the bile rising in her throat. He didn’t have to do it. Master Finnegan didn’t even know her.

Looking around her, Annabelle knew she wasn’t in the water nor was she on the island. She lay in an enormous palm tree high above ground, the large evergreen leaves hiding her from the view of people below her.

People wailed. Women searched for their men among the corpses scattered along the beach. Deep in her heart, Annabelle knew their search would be in vain.

 **The relic moved the Earth itself,** she realized. She went into the Temple unprepared for what it was. Despite her doubts, Annabelle knew she had to return to France. The entire Brotherhood needed to know what happened. No one could search for those artifacts.

Inch by inch, Annabelle climbed down from the tree. The rough, segmented bark scraped her hands, but she didn’t notice. Bruised and broken, she tried to plot her next course of action.

Crossing her left arm over her stomach, Annabelle held her right side. It hurt to breathe. Her forehead continued to throb.

She stumbled across the beach, trudging toward Callao. There wasn’t much to the beach. The tide remained abnormally far in, and she had no idea how far the wave had gone.

As she paused for a moment, she stared at her reflection in the sea foam. Annabelle didn’t recognize herself. Black circled her eyes, marring her fair skin.

Annabelle touched the diagonal gash that started at the end of her right eyebrow and lost itself in her thick mass of hair. She winced.

Water hadn’t done most of the damage this day, however. The ground had violently shaken for more than a minute after Horatio had destroyed the device. When she limped over the next rise, she saw the results of the shaking.

She dropped to her knees. “Mon Dieu …”

Where Callao had been, there was now nothing more than a smoldering pile of rubble. Fires still burned here and there in places that didn’t get hit by the waves. No building taller than a man stood, and few of those even so.

Annabelle couldn’t move, and she knelt witness, mouth agape, for many silent moments.

 **This is my fault.** This all happened because she lead Horatio into the temple. None of this death and destruction would have happened if she would have just let go of her curiosity. She had to push into the unknown, and a city lay in ruins because of it.


End file.
